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I sat in the car with the smug satisfaction of being a rule follower. I was still dry. Huge rain droplets smacked down on our rental car’s windshield with a thunk-thunk-thunk.
Those who were not rule followers now desperately tried to make it to their cars amid the pounding rain.
Several minutes earlier- We had been standing in line to get into the Red Rocks Amphitheater. This was the whole reason for our Colorado trip. Seeing a concert at the legendary Red Rocks Amphitheater was an item on “the list.” When we saw that one of our favorite bands to see in concert, Steely Dan, was playing there, we figured now was as good a time as any to check something off.
We were almost up to the entrance, when the person who was taking the tickets stated that no one else in line would be admitted into the venue. They had just received reports that dangerous weather was heading our way and they highly recommended that those in line seek shelter in their vehicles. The majority of people in line scoffed and stayed firmly in place. With plenty of time still before the concert began, and figuring it didn’t really matter what spot you had in line if you had ticketed seats, we trekked back to the car just before the downpour began. We stayed nice and dry and were rewarded at the end with a beautiful rainbow.
Once the storm passed, we walked back up to the entrance.
We walked around for a bit and took some pictures while there was still some light in the sky. We couldn’t get over the spectacular the view.
When I went to use the restroom, I discovered that there was an entire indoor music museum underneath the amphitheater.
After the opening act, Steve Winwood, played a few songs, we settled into our seats, well on our bench to be exact. While sitting on our bench it started to drizzle.
We put on our rain jackets. Then the rain started to pick up a bit more. We watched a guy pull rain pants out of his bag and put them on (we now own rain pants). The wind picked up. We were just starting to contemplate if we should perhaps go downstairs and wander around the nice dry music museum for a bit when Steve Winwood stopped playing. A venue representative got onto the stage and announced that dangerous weather was heading our way and everyone needed to find shelter, immediately. I will say that this moment gave me hope for the zombie apocalypse, because everyone got up and started moving in an orderly fashion. It wasn’t a trample fest. We had just made it to end of our aisle when the heavens opened up and began a mass assault. There was so much water descending from the sky, it was impossible to move. To make matters worse, the sudden flood of water turned the amphitheater’s stairs into a rushing waterfall.
So much for going indoors, there was no way to get there without the risk of getting swept away. We gathered in a tight huddle with some fellow concert goers to wait out the storm. Hail the size of marbles bounced off of our heads. I was grateful for our earlier Mt. Evans excursion and the fact that I was still wearing my hiking boots. One poor girl in our huddled mass had on flip-flops and kept exclaiming,
“Ow, it hurts, ow it hurts,” as the hail pelted her bare toes. She was doing a little jig as though she were in a Western film and a bad guy was shooting at her feet.
I couldn’t tell you how long the storm lasted. In the moment it felt like forever and that perhaps it would never end, but eventually the sky cleared, the water stopped rushing down the stairs, and life was normal again, except for the fact that we were absolutely soaked.
A woman standing near us laughed.
“I guess I don’t need ice,” she said, as she held up her drink cup that was now filled with hail.
Shannon used his phone to catch a glimpse of the aftermath.
People began wandering around, looking for lost members of their group. Discussions began over whether or not they should stay. Would they cancel the concert? Would more bad weather come? Did they really want to sit around in wet clothes all night?
It wasn’t a question for us, even though we were soaked, this was our whole reason for coming to Colorado. We were staying.
For the diehards who did stay, the questions and stories began,
“Where were you when it started?”
“What did you do?”
“Wasn’t that just crazy?”
“That hail really hurt didn’t it?”
We gladly traded our tale with those who asked.
The concert was fantastic. Song after song we’d exclaim,
“ I love this one,” and we’d mouth the words and sometimes I’d do little jazzy moves with my shoulders.
Steely Dan gave lots of shout outs to everyone who toughed out the storm and chose to stay.
Sure, I would have rather not been cold and wet, but the Red Rocks Amphitheater was inspiring. The fresh air, the amazing acoustics, the view of the city in one direction and the moon rising over the rocks in the other,
we did not regret our decision to stay. It was an amazing experience. Plus we now will always have our very own flash flood at Red Rocks tale to tell.
